ISSUE 1
 

Jacquelin Molina Guillen

 

Stealing Something Free

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Morning walk 

Yoga mat strapped to my back

Just replenished body 

    with breath 

Like spring replenishes earth

    with flowers 

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Daffodils grow near street 

I pick only two 

Sniffing perfume 

Nose yellowed from pollen 

Thinking they’ll go well 

On the ofrenda 

Sweet smells attract 

The spirit of ancestors 

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Suddenly 

White woman 

Pink in the neck and face 

Chasing me down the block

Shoes quickly tied

Jacket half zipped 

Raging, Those are mine!

Frightened, I say, I am sorry

Whole time believing they were wild

Not realizing flowers could be owned

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Woods 

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The woods split on the 

    nose of the car on the      

 drive up                           

Germantown Road.    

From high clouds, snow 

fell tenderly and without 

echo on resting trees in 

the night. 

Gathering in the              

storm’s reminder fills     

me with                          

fantasy, with angels, with 

an appreciation for my 

own hand to hold. 

At the mountain peak,    

the road breaks      

into an                     

intersection           then 

slopes    down    through 

Forest    Park.    Naturally 

these evergreens                 

  bleed emerald, but on   

  this morning of          

gifting red                    

hearts to lovers and friends, 

the beauty of the day is 

love. Love, love, 

                     love.            

        Precious, sweet, and  

liberating. Yours, mine,   

        ours.               

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